


Maniac

by rabid_behemoth



Series: Naruto Smut Monday 2021 [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Bad Jokes, F/M, Fluff, Fun, Humor, Kakashi face kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Sex, Smut, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:27:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28973577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabid_behemoth/pseuds/rabid_behemoth
Summary: Kakashi has been looser with his tongue around Sakura lately, but only because he knows she doesn’t take his dirty jokes seriously...until she does. [For Naruto Smut Monday, Jan 2021, “Snowed In/Body Heat” prompt]
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Hatake Kakashi
Series: Naruto Smut Monday 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2125188
Comments: 34
Kudos: 189
Collections: Naruto Smut Monday 2021





	Maniac

"This is unnatural," Sakura announced with all the certainty of a doctor proclaiming a diagnosis—and none of the professional detachment.

"What's unnatural about a little inclement weather?" Kakashi asked casually. But his hands tightly hugged his own body as they ran, giving away the act.

"Beaches are meant to be _hot_ and _dry_ ," she growled, squinting through the accelerating flurries. Snow carpeted the sand as far as the eye could see (which, admittedly, was not very far under current circumstances); a blanket of glitter untouched by any footprints besides their own stretched endlessly. It even seemed to muffle the soft churn of the waves rolling in and retreating.

The powder was tinted a pale blue color from the lack of sunlight, though it was still afternoon. Aside from the whistle of the wind and the muted thumping of their own feet, it was utterly silent out here. The scene might have looked beautiful in an alien sort of way, rather like the surface of the moon.

But then a convulsion tore down Sakura's spine and she swore at the top of her lungs in a way that made even Kakashi raise an eyebrow. "I don't get it! We specifically took the coastal route to avoid this! Why the hell is there a _blizzard_ at the _beach_?"

"Just Lightning Country things, I guess," he said unhelpfully, through chattering teeth.

Sakura was about to let him know exactly what she thought of that answer when his hand on her arm made her slow. She absorbed, dimly, the small wooden structure he was pointing at through the flailing flakes. They stumbled to an awkward stop together, automatically releasing the chakra they'd been summoning to their feet.

They both immediately sunk in up to their knees.

"Oh my _god_ ," Sakura screeched as slush poured into her boots and soaked through her double layers of socks. "When did it even get this bad?"

"Sometime between, 'aww, aren't the snowflakes pretty?' and 'dear god, I have frostbite on my—'"

"Don't," she snapped in warning. "Not 'til I'm warmer. Please."

"Then let's hope this is what I think it is," he muttered, leading the way.

It was indeed a little beach shack. It wasn't quaint; 'ramshackle' was the word, with its unfinished, worn wood boards and tin-shingled roof. It leaned slightly left and was barely big enough for two, but at the moment it looked how an oasis must look to desert travelers: like pure promise.

Sakura released a half-strangled cry of hope and moved to knock on the door, but Kakashi beat her to it. He broke the lock in two with a flick of his wrist and deposited the twisted metal on the snow.

Sakura still had just enough blood in her brain to offer him an unimpressed glance. "Even if it's empty, someone's gonna be mad at you later for that."

He merely smiled beneath his mask. "At least I'll be alive for them to get angry at." He wasted no time in shoving the door open and they both ducked inside.

It was even more spartan inside than outside. The unpolished floor was bare aside from a small crate acting as a table with a gas lantern atop it. A shelf lined the opposite wall, stocked with a few boxes, candles, jugs of water. It wasn't the kind of place made for a long-term stay; it was more like a camping shelter. There was no plumbing or electricity but there was a small wood stove in the corner, and that was all that mattered to them at the moment.

Kakashi dug around in his pack for a scroll while Sakura fought to close the door against the wind. She had to use a bit of chakra to get it to seal, but it still wasn't nearly warm enough inside without a heat source.

She turned, disappointed to see Kakashi sprawled on the floor surrounded by scrolls, none of them being the right one. "Hurry," she said, rubbing her hands furiously along her arms, shifting her weight from foot to foot to keep moving.

With the promise of heat, he was already considerably more composed. "Sakura, in all the years I've known you, I must say I had no idea how cranky you become in popsicle mode."

She didn't bother to deny it. "I have never been this cold in all my life." It wasn't strictly true, but it _felt_ true at the moment.

"It's okay. I assume this is an expression of patriotism. You're a true Fire Country nin to your core."

"Argh!" She began dancing in place. Running was better than standing around, even if it was outside. "Who built this stupid country!? Who made it the way it is?"

"If I knew the answer to that, I assure you I wouldn't be out here accepting B-rank recon missions in the dead of winter."

"What do you mean? It's peacetime. There are no more S-rank missions. What exactly do you think you'd be doing instead?"

"With knowledge of the mysterious processes behind all of Creation? Starting a cult, of course."

Her lip curled. "You would be the type, wouldn't you?"

His grin turned sharp. His face was still buried in his pack, so she couldn't see it, but she could _feel_ it. "Only if all my followers were lithe, young things, like in _Icha Icha Sect_. Jiraiya really set his imagination free with that one. I could live on a sprawling compound in the steamy jungle, just like in the book. My followers, all beautiful women, would listen to my lectures and feed me tropical fruit from golden forks, and wine from jeweled goblets, and then at night—"

"I know what happens next. Pervert. Just find the damn scroll."

He paused in his searching, glancing up at her cheekily. "...you ever been interested in joining a cult, Sakura?"

She opened the door to blast him with freezing wind, scattering the pile of scrolls everywhere.

He yelped and scrambled gracelessly out of the path of the wind. He swore as he sat on a scroll, yanking it out from beneath him. "C-close the door!"

"No, not until—"

"I found it!"

Sakura hustled to close the door and seal it again. "Finally! Geez."

Kakashi turned a wry glare onto her as he unfurled it, performing the requisite seals without looking. "Has anyone ever told you you're a maniac?"

"Once or twice," she allowed, watching with rapture as a pile of firewood popped gloriously into existence atop the scroll. "Yes!"

"It's gonna take time to get the fire going," he reminded her in a vain attempt to temper her enthusiasm. "One of us should go get more driftwood so we don't deplete the supply. We can dry it in here, by the stove."

Sighing in resignation, she stuck her fist out. Kakashi matched the gesture. They stared at each other intently, eyes locked, mouths identical, severe straight lines. Neither blinked. They bounced their fists three times in tandem, then Kakashi called, "Shoot!"

Sakura chose rock. Unfortunately for her, Kakashi chose paper.

"Damn it! How does this _always_ —"

"The universe rewards those with good intentions," he said sagely, settling in by the stove to build the fire. "Maybe if you were less of a maniac—"

She marched out on him mid-sentence, muttering to herself and holding her coat around her tightly as she braced for the wind.

It was worse than before. Even without the stove on the little shack had actually been helping a bit. Everything was relative, she supposed grimly, squinting against the bright snow for dark twisting shapes. She found a few immediately, though she was loath to get too near the water for fear of the spray. A fish would've made for a nice treat—a break from the monotony of their diet of dried meat and instant noodles—but it wasn't worth the risk of getting wet.

In the end she wound up walking nearly a mile in both directions until she had gathered enough to fill both arms. Anything less and she knew Kakashi would just send her out again, the miser.

By the time she burst through the door with her bundle, she was shivering so hard the driftwood clacked together noisily in her arms.

Kakashi looked up. He was curled cozily by the stove atop their heaviest bedroll, a thick blanket wrapped around his shoulders, dog-eared orange book in hand. His expression was faintly alarmed.

Her muscles twitched and spasmed at the temperature change, and she nearly lost her grip on the driftwood.

He was up in a flash, taking it from her and stacking it neatly under the stove to dry. Sakura wordlessly collapsed as close as possible to the heat, stretching her numb hands toward the metal. Something soft draped across her shoulders, and she looked up to see Kakashi peering down at her, one hand releasing the blanket. She hunkered into it greedily.

"Can you count backward from one hundred by nines?"

"Wh-what?" she stammered.

"You know," he said, kneeling on the bedroll and unlacing one of her boots. "One hundred, ninety-one, eighty-two…" He tried to pull her boot off but her legs were locked so tight he had to yank, nearly toppling her over.

She watched him peel her wet sock off and roll up her pant leg over her calf with something strangely like fascination. He'd never handled her this way before—certainly never dressed or undressed her—but then again, she'd never been so cold she could barely move before, either. He was careful to avoid touching her skin, but even so she was dimly grateful she couldn't quite feel her legs.

"Sakura?" he prompted, reaching for the other boot. "One hundred?"

"I—I'm not hypothermic," she protested, brain catching up to the situation now that she was a little warmer. She cracked her stiff fingers and reached down to unlace it herself, rattling off her answer. "Seventy-three, sixty-four, fifty-five, and so on."

"Good." He sat beside her, shoulder to shoulder, scooting his back close to the heater, and opened his book again.

As Sakura warmed up, her thoughts churned in odd directions. They'd been caught in so many close quarters over the years—first as a team, then later as just partners—that it wasn't unusual to find herself smashed up against him, competing for resources...usually sleeping space (he was a sprawler, but nothing like Naruto's level). They'd been locked in closets and trapped in caves, hidden in air ducts and buried underground. Her feet had befriended his face, and more than once she'd bumped her head on his ass while scaling buildings in the dark. It wasn't the least bit weird.

And yet something as mundane as him removing her shoe finally made her uncomfortable?

She leveled a glare at him. This was definitely his fault. Because of the way he'd taken to speaking to her lately. It was changing things that shouldn't be changed.

He glanced at her over the top of his pages. "Problem?"

"Nope," she said, letting him know it wasn't true.

"Good," he said mildly, eyes returning to his book.

Time passed as the blizzard began to pick up outside in earnest. There was a single, smudged window in the shack, but nothing could be seen outside but blinding white. The door rattled occasionally in its frame as a particularly violent gust shook the hut.

The small stove wasn't especially powerful, but it was just warm enough to help them be almost comfortable. Despite the torrent outside, Sakura felt herself growing a little sleepy. Her eyes blinked closed longer and longer, until her head finally nodded.

Kakashi cleared his throat loudly. "You know, this is just like the plot of _Icha Icha Ski Lodge_. They get caught in a snowstorm, and the main character has to keep his love interest from freezing to death by—"

"I'm not hypothermic," she snapped, now fully awake. "You can't get hypothermia just from walking around in wet socks for half an hour. I am literally an expert on this topic. You could have just let me doze."

He was the picture of innocence. "What? I was only trying to tell you about a relevant part of _Icha Icha_. It was really one of the best volumes in the series—"

She rolled her eyes. "You always do this. Not every lurid mission scenario made its way into _Icha Icha_."

"Maybe they did. It's a very long series."

"They didn't."

"How would you know?"

"Because I've read them."

Kakashi blinked at her uncomprehendingly over the edge of his book. "Read what?"

" _Icha Icha_ ," she said, slightly exasperated.

His eyes widened, then narrowed. "You've...read…?"

She nodded slowly, pointedly. "Yeah."

He paused. "When you say 'read'—"

"I mean I've read them! Is that really so hard to believe?" She was almost offended by his doubt.

"Okay...okay. You've read…" He seemed to be struggling to make his thoughts work together. "Which have you read?"

"All of them." He stared with such incredulity that her ears burned. "What? What kind of animal stops reading in the middle of a series? I mean—it's not much, but there _is_ continuity between them—stop laughing!"

He was bent in two, book forgotten, holding his sides. "I knew—I always knew you were my brightest student, Sakura. Or at least the one who resembled me the most, in certain unfortunate ways. But I never imagined—"

"Not your student," she corrected stiffly, trying to edge her shoulder away from his shaking one.

"I used past tense," he pointed out, fit subsiding. He straightened, grinning at her interestedly. "So you like them? Really?"

There wasn't much point in denying it after admitting to reading all of them. "Yes." She paused. "And for your _edification_ , they were _wet_ in that chapter. In cotton clothes. Jiraiya did his homework on hypothermia, if nothing else. There's no danger to us in dry wool."

"I'll say they were wet."

"Kakashi!"

"So there's really no danger?"

"No."

"Not even if I emptied my flask down your shirt?"

She stiffened. "That would most definitely be dangerous, but not because of hypothermia."

"What about if we had a snowball fight and I nailed you in the front _and_ —"

She smacked his shoulder. "Stop being such a pervert! What the hell's gotten into you? You never used to talk to me like this. I swear, ever since Naruto and Hinata's second anniversary party—"

"Ah, ah." He wagged a finger at her. "It was _you_ who decided to take a pass at _me_ that day. You opened that door, I've just been paying you back in kind ever since."

"I was drunk!"

"You pinched my ass and tried to blame it on Naruto. It was too funny to be allowed."

"That doesn't give you a free pass to—to sexually harass me for the rest of our careers."

A hand flew protectively over his heart. His eyelids fluttered with false injury. "You think this is sexual harassment?"

She glared. "If it walks like a duck…"

He raised a brow. "It's hardly harassment if you enjoy it. You can't lie to me, Sakura. I witnessed your teenage years. Remember that time we were camping in Suna around your thirteenth birthday, and you told me you were only trying to remove my mask because you were afraid I had sleep apnea? I've never once believed anything you said since then."

"See, references like that are exactly what I mean when I say your dirty jokes are a little bit weird! You knew me before I was an adult. Meanwhile, I've never even seen you unmasked. It's hardly equal ground to—to talk about sex stuff—"

"'A little bit weird' is different from harassment." He turned his eyes back to his book. "And sometimes 'sex stuff', as you so eloquently put it, is best talked about from unequal ground. Half the fun is maneuvering to meet in the middle, if you ask me. But if it genuinely bothers you, I'll stop."

She opened her mouth to crow in triumph, but hesitated, unexpectedly torn.

A knowing smirk appeared beneath his mask, though he did not look up. "Thought so."

Sakura gave up for the time being, crossing her arms stubbornly. She would get him back sooner or later—she always did. Their lives were a perpetual game of tag like that, taking it in turns to outwit the other. Even if he somehow always won rock-paper-scissors. She suspected he cheated with the Sharingan, but she couldn't catch him doing it.

He might be wagging his tongue more loosely with her these days, but she knew him too well to be thrown. He only enjoyed teasing her because he knew she wouldn't take it seriously. If she really wanted to scare him...well, all she had to do was _respond_. One seductive glance from her would scar him for life, and he'd never dare make an off-color joke around her again. She would have to wait for the right opportunity.

Or create an opportunity herself, her brain supplied brazenly. She eyed the water jugs along the shelf but decided the effect wouldn't be dramatic enough to warrant the kind of result she was after.

Cringing at her own plan—maybe she _was_ every bit the maniac he accused her of being—she began to pull on her mostly-dry socks and boots, gathering her outerwear.

It took him a moment to realize what she was doing. "Sakura?"

She was already on her feet by then, senbon in hand, headed to the door. "I'm hungry. I'll be right back."

"Sakura!"

She slipped out the door. The wind slapped her in the face immediately, whipping her hair into a frenzy. She masked her chakra and stepped around the side of the building just as the door burst open predictably.

"Sakura!" Kakashi called again, voice all but lost in the fury of the storm. Half-hidden around the corner, she watched him barrel out into the snow, bending to look for footprints that weren't there.

Smiling to herself at her little deception, she resolutely turned and went in the other direction, toward the shoreline. She couldn't see three inches in front of her nose, but she found the water by its briny smell. The ocean was crashing against the sand and snow by now, no longer the docile thing it had been earlier that day, whipped into whitewater by the howling wind.

She stepped out onto the rough surface carefully, holding her chakra in place beneath the soles of her shoes. She didn't have much time before he sensed even that small usage, so she lumbered out as quickly as she dared, picking her way over the swells. Her legs soon burned and ached—water walking forced a shinobi to use even the most neglected muscles—but she made it past the breakers, a good enough distance for some fish. Crouching close to the surface with her eyes closed, she waited, listening for animal chakra. The small fish were impossible to sense through the disturbance of the storm, which was, in a way, helpful. The moment a big one flitted near enough to detect, she flicked her senbon. It cut through the waves and hit its mark.

Sakura pumped her fist in victory, covered her nose and mouth with her hand, and released her chakra.

She dropped like a stone into the icy water. No amount of bracing herself could have prepared her for it. She fought off the expected coldwater shock response, which urged her to gasp, and forced her eyes open. The blood trail led right to the fish. She reached it within seconds and was back on top of the churning waves.

Her muscles seized so hard she couldn't stand. She had to crawl to shore, fish clenched tightly to her chest—a mackerel, she thought. There was no real danger with the fire going in the warm beach hut—at least, not once she finished executing her plan—but this experience definitely qualified as one of her more extreme moments of self-inflicted agony. Including the time she told Naruto that udon was better than ramen. He hadn't let her be for _weeks_.

She used chakra to warm her blood slightly. She couldn't do it for very long—the cold made it harder to control, and she had to be very precise when messing with something as delicate as blood temperature—but it helped her warm up enough to stand and hobble back to the shack.

Kakashi was already waiting for her, having sensed the direction of her chakra. She hid a smile at the sight of his jaw hanging open in horror.

She did know him too well.

He rushed her into the shelter and plopped her in front of the stove, adding fresh wood as he released a litany of curses under his breath. He dug through the pack for the scroll with the towels, burying her under every one they had. As he bustled about, she caught snippets of 'what were you thinking', 'out of your mind', and 'heart attack'. This was a significant achievement: Kakashi wasn't easily flustered.

"H-h-h-here—" she bit out through chattering teeth—exaggerating it just a little bit for effect—holding out the fish.

For a moment he looked like he wanted to slap her with it, but decided it wasn't worth the fight. He took the fish, resuming his grumbling as he found a pan and prepared it for the stove. He kept one eye resolutely on Sakura, like he was worried she would dash off and do something else unhinged.

She was hardly going to disappoint him.

Once her soaked gloves were off, she stood to remove her boots. Her fingers shook as she unlaced them, but grew stronger with each tug, more certain. She kicked them off and went for her socks. She peeled each sopping piece of wool off, one by one, laying them by the stove to dry. Showily.

She took off her scarf, untwirling it carefully around her head. Then she shrugged out of her heaviest coat, fumbling the buttons with numb fingers. Kakashi paid her no attention, continuing his muttered tirade about maniacs. Next went the lighter coat. She unzipped the fleece jacket beneath that, dropping it onto the pile.

Kakashi glanced up at the sound, but he was still steaming. He barely spared her a glare before turning back to work on the fire, this time in stony silence.

One more layer and she was down to her tight, long-sleeved thermal shirt, only her bra underneath. She turned her attention to her pants. She could almost feel her fingers and toes by now, and was unsure if the tingling she experienced was from excitement or the rush of blood to her extremities.

In any case, she took her time with this next part. The outermost layer of pants was easiest to unzip and pull off, but the ones underneath were so wet they took some tugging. She hopped about on one foot, making plenty of noise.

Kakashi kept his back resolutely toward her, facing the stove.

She had to fight back a smile when she removed the next layer, leaving only her thermal pants on over her underwear. It was hard to keep her face straight as she decided which article of clothing to discard next: pants or shirt.

He must have been counting. He must have been _counting her layers_ , or perhaps he just had preternatural senses, because when she finally reached for the hem of her thin shirt, he spun around.

There was something almost like panic in his eyes, though he kept his voice even. "What are you doing?"

She blinked at him innocently. "Undressing."

"You look plenty undressed to me."

"It's wet," she said, wringing her damp shirt in demonstration.

"It's your last layer. It'll dry fast."

" _You're_ the one so worried about hypothermia," she pointed out. "This is the sensible thing to do. I'll dry faster with it all off." Offering him a charming, slightly sinister smile, she deliberately lifted her shirt.

She couldn't see his response with the material over her eyes. However, by the time she worked it over her head and tossed it aside, he'd turned back to the stove, annoyingly disinterested. Or perhaps not, she noted, studying the too-tense way he held his frame. Frowning in thought, she bent to tug off the last layer of pants next.

This time she was able to watch as his spine stiffened. The sound of the wet fabric clinging to her skin and she peeled it off was the only audible thing in the room. She couldn't even hear him breathe.

Smiling again, she unhooked her bra. The metal clasps scraped together loudly in the silence. She dropped it to the floor with a wet squelch.

She wiggled out of her panties last, checking to see which ones they were. Reasonably new, no holes, about as cute a pair as any she owned. Good. She deposited them on top of the pile of discarded clothes where they would be in full view.

Then she stretched, feeling much warmer already, toweled off briefly, and sauntered toward the bedroll.

Kakashi all but scrambled over himself to make extra room. As expected, his gaze was firmly affixed to the wall. It did not flicker to her once.

"How's the fish coming?" she asked pleasantly, settling herself beside him and warming her hands.

"Just fine," he answered. To her chagrin, there was no hint of a tremor in his voice whatsoever. He seemed to pause to consider his words, then added, "I thought you said wool wasn't dangerous to wear even when wet."

"Well, some of my clothes are wool and others polypropylene, but yeah. All nice and moisture-wicking by design."

"Ah," he intoned, as though this were an interesting academic question. "Then why, may I ask, have you removed all your clothes?"

"Just because wet clothes aren't going to kill me doesn't mean they're comfortable," she remarked, stretching her bare legs toward the stove and wiggling her toes.

"I bet a blanket would be even more comfortable," he pointed out.

"Maybe when my skin is dry," she said demurely.

He took a breath. "Sakura—"

"If it genuinely bothers you, I'll stop." She smiled as she turned his words against him, leaning over to bump her bare shoulder against his arm as if by accident.

He jumped—a pleasing response. After this he would never dare tease her about sex things again. He would be so thoroughly traumatized she half-expected him to give up reading _Icha Icha_ in front of her.

Okay, that would be a miracle, but still.

Just as she was settling into her victory—even considering having some mercy and covering up with the blanket—he managed to surprise her.

"You'll have to watch the fish cook," he said. Then he pulled his mask up and over his entire face, including his eyes. He settled his hitae-ate back into place over it as though this was a perfectly normal thing, and leaned back to relax.

Sakura fumed. But there wasn't much she could do in retaliation. She scowled at the fish as it cooked, contemplating the situation. Kakashi truly was an expert at being aggravating. If she hoped to outdo him at his own game, she would have to come up with something even better.

Meanwhile, as the fish sizzled and began to smell tantalizing, he had the nerve to faintly snore. She glared at him through his mask with enough vitriol to ensure he felt it through the fabric, even in his dreams. She snatched the fish out of the pan just before its skin charred black and scooped it onto one of the little plates from their pack. She was about to cut it in half like usual—until a particularly loud snort emanated from her sleeping partner, reminding her exactly how annoying he was. Shrugging, she grabbed her chopsticks and went to dig into the whole thing herself.

Half the fish vanished like smoke. She hadn't even seen him move. By the time she looked up his mask was back in place over his mouth and eyes. He didn't stir.

"I know you're not sleeping," she said testily, chewing. "You're going to give yourself indigestion, eating that fast."

He said nothing, sitting peaceably still.

She picked bones out of her teeth. "Did you even bother to chew it?"

Silence. Her hair was nearly dry, and she could practically feel the steam rising off her skin with her anger.

Then, just as she was reaching for a drink of water to wash the dinner down with, she had an idea. She stared at the flask in her hand, a wicked grin slowly spreading across her face.

This was war. Fighting dirty was practically a requirement.

She wrapped herself in the blanket just in case. Then she leaned toward him, flask extended, and doused the whole thing over the mask on his face.

One of his arms shot out reflexively as he spluttered, the other yanking the drenched fabric from his nose and mouth. His flailing arm knocked hers aside, opening her blanket.

Their eyes met. They stared uncomprehendingly at the other for an indeterminate moment: he at her naked body, she at his naked face.

Then they simultaneously scrambled away from each other—Sakura struggling to keep the blanket tucked around the important bits, Kakashi tugging his mask back on. But he gasped, unable to breathe through the sopping material, and pulled it down around his neck again, covering the lower half of his face with his hand instead.

Sakura's heart was pounding staccato in her chest. It wasn't so much that he'd seen her naked—really, it was kind of amazing he hadn't caught a glimpse all these years—as much as his _response_. His pupils darkened, dilated. She knew what that meant. It was insane that she'd noticed his eyes at all, because—

—she'd _seen his face_.

And it was…

Sakura swallowed hard, pulling the blanket tight around her body. Kakashi seemed to gradually accept the futility of his situation. He let his hand drop into his lap.

Sakura knew she was staring. But she couldn't help it—she gaped, open-mouthed and disbelieving. Her unblinking eyes took in every inch of skin—the line of his lips, the shape of his straight nose, the contour of his jaw—and tried to fit the pieces together with the parts of his face she was actually used to. Even though it all made sense with his profile, it didn't seem to fit. It didn't seem...real.

She didn't know what she'd expected—maybe just a blank void beneath the mask?—but she hadn't ever thought it would be so…

Attractive?

Sakura yelped and scooted backward further. Kakashi sighed irritably and rested his beautiful chin in his palm.

"Well. That happened."

She couldn't speak.

He rolled his eyes—the unification of that movement with the rest of his expression absolutely blew her mind—and continued. "That, uh, wasn't exactly the way I wanted that particular reveal to happen."

Her mouth worked. "How—how did you want it to happen?"

His eyes crinkled in a smile. She was flabbergasted that she could see his mouth actually curving at the same time. "I didn't. Not ever."

"S-same here," she said faintly.

"What an odd thing to say," he began, stacking plates and scraping bones into their waste baggie, "for someone who took all her clothes off for no reason."

Some of her amazement hardened at that. "I have my reasons."

"Being a maniac doesn't count," he noted.

Now she glared. "Maybe I'm not a maniac. Maybe I'm merely responding in ordinary ways to your absurdity."

"Blaming others for your own peculiarities. Very mature, Sakura."

"How dare you?" she hissed, a nerve struck. "How can you sit there and accuse me of peculiarities? You hid your face from me for _fifteen years_! I got naked for fifteen _minutes_ to get back at you."

He opened his mouth—yes, she stared at that, too, noting a crooked canine with interest—then snapped it shut, puzzled. "How does stripping get back at me for hiding my face?"

"Not for that!" she spat, exasperated. "For the—the sex stuff."

His eyes roved for a moment as he seemed to consider _which_ sex stuff she meant, exactly.

She wanted to smack her palm against her forehead but was afraid to let go of the blanket. "The teasing! The jokes. The—the _flirting_." Great. Now she was turning red on top of everything.

Understanding lit in his eyes. "That? If it bothers you, you should have asked me to stop when I offered."

"It's been going on for months! Where was your offer before? It—you shouldn't have done it at all."

His mouth was a thin line. "And your solution was to make me uncomfortable on purpose?"

"No," she said emphatically, shaking her head. "No, that's not it."

"Then what were you trying to do?"

She stared, caught by the open frustration on his face. They weren't used to fighting. They'd been friends for so long they mostly worked in easy agreement, even when they annoyed each other. As a result, she wound up spitting out the truth. She took a breath, deliberately lowering the volume of her voice. "I was—I was trying to call you on your bullshit."

He leaned forward, subdued by her more measured response, listening. "How?"

She exhaled sharply. "Well, you only joke like that because you think I don't take it seriously. But what if I _did_ , Kakashi? Would it still be funny then? I just...wanted you to think about that."

He froze for a moment, blinking, though he kept his eyes carefully on her face. He seemed to consider each word before he spoke it. " _Do_ you?"

"Do I what?"

"Take it seriously?"

"Oh—" she gasped a little, struck. "I—uh—that—no, that's not the point. I _could_. I just wanted you to—to consider my feelings a little more—"

His eyes narrowed. "Did you really think this through, Sakura?"

She shrugged. The blanket slipped off her shoulder and she hurried to pull it back into place. "Did you really think the whole flirting thing through?"

He watched her with sharp, assessing eyes. Something about the expression made her blood heat, and she was suddenly almost too warm for the blanket. "Evidently not enough."

She snorted. "Yeah, well—"

"Did you consider what would happen if _I_ took _you_ seriously?"

Her brows knit together. "Took me seriously how?"

"Your attempts at—ah—seduction."

Her spine was very stiff, and she was dimly aware the flush had spread to her neck. "I...didn't think that was something I had to worry about."

He raised a brow. "Because I'm so professional?"

She scoffed. "A man who compulsively reads porn when he should be watching his students can hardly talk about professionalism. Only _you_ are lucky enough to be able to complete your missions despite such chronic negligence."

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Sakura tried not to watch it spread with fascination, but it was absorbing. "I don't know whether to be flattered or insulted."

She licked her lips absently, only just now noticing how dry they were. "Better go with insulted. To be safe."

He chuckled. It was a low rumble that bumped along her skin. She wasn't sure what was happening between them, in the air of this tiny room, but _something_ was. Something new.

" _Do_ you?" she asked in a small voice.

"Do I what?"

"Take me...seriously?" Her fists were tight against the blanket.

His dark pupils sharpened on her at once. His eyes dropped to her feet—to her toes sticking out beneath the blanket—then dragged—inch by inch—up the contours of her form hidden under the fabric.

"...I could." His reply was a soft, delicate thing. Scarcely audible, but enough to send a shiver bumping down each vertebrae of her spine.

"O-oh," she choked. There was a gaping disconnect between her brain, her body, and this conversation. The feeling of unreality from earlier returned; in some way, they might as well be having this discussion on the surface of the moon, for all the sense it made.

But they weren't really in another world, just a foreign country. And there really was snow on the beach here. She was in her ordinary body. Her toes twitched as if to prove it. Sweat was gathering on her back. And there was a knot in her stomach—something dangerously close to arousal. "You don't—uh—you don't think it'd be...weird?"

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. Sakura's eyes followed every flicker of movement. "Maybe a little bit."

Her voice echoed oddly in her own ears as she spoke up at last, deeply torn. "I—I don't—"

"Why did you touch me like that? At the party."

"W-what?"

"Naruto and Hinata's party. When you grabbed—"

She flinched. "I was—"

"Just drunk? Was that all?" His gaze was unwavering, intense. He was leaning forward, toward her, though he didn't seem to be aware of it.

"No," she admitted quietly. "No, it's not all."

"What do you want from me, Sakura?"

She closed her eyes and let the shudder wrack through her, not hiding it from him. She was burning, burning at the thought of him, and it was just _different_. When she opened them again he was sitting still as a statue, fingers intertwined passively in his lap. But his shoulders were tensed with strain.

She swallowed before she spoke, knowing she would only ever get this opportunity once. "Can you...hold still?"

He seemed to be both confused and painfully aroused by her question. That made the burning so much worse, so she tried to focus on his reply. His voice was a dry rasp. "I can try."

She carefully gathered her blanket above her knees and crawled over to him. She straightened, tucking the gaps closed, feeling his eyes on her fingers as they moved. Then she took a steadying breath, and reached up to touch his face.

She traced the line of his nose first. He sat very, very still as she trailed her fingertip over the planes of his cheekbones, the thin skin of his eyelids, the curve of his jaw. The stubble there was too faint to see with the eye, but she could feel it with her skin, hear it scratching against her fingernail. She watched with fascination as her own finger glided over the fullness of his bottom lip. It was incredibly soft, though a little chapped, and there was a little dark freckle, like a beauty mark, just beneath it—

Unexpectedly, his lips parted, and her whole world narrowed to the wet gap between them. He carefully, gently—politely, even—took her finger into his mouth.

Sakura's swallow could be heard echoing around the room.

Then all at once she was in his lap, the blanket pooled around her waist, her finger still pressed against his soft tongue. He popped off her finger with a somewhat obscene sucking sound to study her with a searing gaze—eyes flitting eagerly from her nipples to her navel—before a hot mouth descended on her neck.

She released a little cry of surprise as her head tilted back, but her traitorous bones turned to jelly in his arms. She wound her fingers through his hair roughly while he bit and sucked at her throat. "I thought—I said hold still—"

"I said I would try," he murmured against her skin as his hands slid toward her waist. "Do you want me to stop?"

"N-no," she stammered, though her mind felt sluggish with fog. "I want—I want—"

He pulled back at that, leaving her damp skin cold, to look at her with hooded eyes. But his warm hands had worked their way beneath the blanket to stroke the base of her spine. "What do you want, Sakura?"

The blood rushed to her face again, dizzyingly, but it brought a wave of sobering embarrassment with it. This was _Kakashi_ whose lap she was wiggling in, this was _Kakashi_ whose hard-on was pressing enticingly against her, and she was momentarily caught between laughter and tears. "I—I can't, I—"

"Tell me what you wanted before, then. At the party. When you…" His hand dipped lower to skim the curve of her ass. She resisted the urge to grind against it.

"What about you?" she asked in a breathless rush, forcing herself to look him in the eye, to be still in his lap. His face was a picture of desire, so blatant it made her head spin. "Did you like it, when I touched you? Was all the teasing...did you mean anything more by it?"

"Nuh-uh," he said fiercely, giving her rear the squeeze she'd been craving and making her back arch. Her eyelids fluttered shut at the sensation, and her insides began to ache with emptiness. He'd barely touched her and her thighs were already slick with evidence of her eagerness. He knew—even if she could avoid dripping on his thighs, he would be able to smell her arousal. "You first."

She pressed her mouth to his in answer. It wasn't sweet, or slow, or gentle. It was sharp and fierce, and the more she mashed her teeth against his the more he seemed to like it. She could feel him hardening against her. He gripped her hip with one hand and rocked her in his lap until they swayed. His fingers tangled in her hair to pry her off so he could breathe.

He leaned back, panting, wild eyes over-bright, an indecent smirk on his swollen lips. Sakura was captivated. "That's almost an answer to my question," he said. His fingers shot up suddenly to twist her nipple.

She yelped in sharp pleasure. "Ah—!"

He threw his head back at the sound, thrusting his hips up into her. The effect was instantaneous—the coarse fabric of his pants _dragged_ across the bare folds of skin between her legs. Shockwaves radiated through her belly. She pitched forward with a cry and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Good?" he whispered into her ear as she clung to him.

She nodded vigorously against his shoulder. He already smelled dark to her, dirty. Like sex.

"I can make it better."

Holy hell, this man—her brain whited out for a moment as he pistoned his hips upward, his clothes rubbing against her exquisitely, like the first bite of a delicacy, or the perfect, final note held at the end of a favorite song. She sucked in air, squirming against him, trying to remember—

"I—I want you," she said, fumbling for his face and forcing his glazed eyes to look at her. His lips were wet and shining, and the picture was a terrible source of power running through her. "I—I think I wanted you at the party, maybe before the party, right now. I don't know why or when it started, but I—holy shit, I _want_ —"

He kissed her in a way that would have buckled her knees if she'd been standing. Sparks crackled and hissed behind her eyelids, in her core, and his pelvic bone drove into hers, and she couldn't breathe—didn't need air, needed—

" _Yes_ ," he hissed, fingers flying to his pants as her hands dove for the zipper of his jacket. So many layers— _so many layers_ —she could have cried with frustration, or pleasure, or both at once—and then the jacket was off, and she tried to yank his undershirt over his head, but his arms weren't cooperating, busy with his pants—she became impatient and pulled too hard, ripped it in two by mistake—

"Oh, fuck—"

His lips curved in amusement, frantic movement stalling. "I'm getting there. But I kind of needed this shirt."

"I'll give you mine."

"Think it'll fit?"

"Not a chance. I guess we'll just have to stay here until the snowstorm's over and it's warmer out."

He laughed, full and throaty. "That long? Could be days. How do you imagine we would occupy oursel—"

"Stop talking." She yanked his pants down to his knees and clambered back into his lap.

" _Ah_ —" they both hissed through gritted teeth at the friction of skin on skin. She'd been right—it was _hot_ in this little room, amazingly, swelteringly hot—and the heat seemed to grow between her legs, pulsating, fueled by the heat radiating from his lap. She rose up, his hand on hers, guiding him toward her entrance together—and with a staggering breath, she sank down—

Bliss.

Sakura's moan could've been heard outside even through the storm, clear into the evening, matched in intensity only by Kakashi's. He filled her; she swelled so deliciously around him, she felt like she would both dissolve and burst into pieces. He groaned. His bruising fingers against her breasts left her panting with need.

She worked herself along his shaft and looked down with half-focused eyes to watch the faces he made. So colorful and expressive, out in plain view. The changes were fascinating: the way his nose scrunched when she ground down on him, like he was in pain; the way he bit his lip, or squeezed his eyes shut—

Then all at once it reminded her of faces he would make when eating food he didn't like, and she couldn't help but laugh.

He paused beneath her at the sound, grunting with strain. "Something funny?"

She pressed one finger to the tip of his nose—that unfamiliar nose. "It's like you said. It's just...a tiny bit weird."

"Good weird or bad weird?"

"Good—oh!"

Then all at once the room tipped dizzyingly and she was on her back looking up at him. He was still inside her—oh _god_ , she could really feel him from this angle—and he began to move again, slower, watching her face with interest at each swivel of his hips.

His greedy eyes roamed over her, taking in her hair, face, breasts bouncing lightly with each thrust. But there was hunger and humor in his gaze. Somehow the combination was perfectly natural on him, a bit of familiarity on this strange planet. "Better?"

She smiled, shuddering with fresh pleasure as he changed the angle again, listening to the wet sounds of their skin sticking together. She released a long, low sound halfway between ache and contentment before she could answer. "Still weird. But good weird."

He pinned her hands above her head and leaned down to brush his lips against the shell of her ear. "I could fuck you from behind if it'd help," he offered.

A thrill shot through her at the thought, curling her toes, but she answered quickly. "N-no. No, I like your face."

His answer was long in coming as he picked up speed. " _Do_ you, now?"

"Yes," she gasped, grabbing him by the hair and pulling him back to look at him. " _Yes_. If you'd showed me it ages ago, I probably would've—"

He cut her off with a low oath. " _Fuck_ —" She felt more than saw the tremor run through his body, muscled arms tensing around her, frame shaking above her.

The thought of his climax set her on fire, made her frantic, and she chanted his name under her breath without meaning to, in warning. He shifted his weight to drive even deeper. He released her hands and they flew to scrabble against the curve of his back, to pull him closer, nails dragging through the sweat. She gasped, teeth rattling with each thrust as she clung to him for dear life. When his hand snaked between their slick bodies to find the central point of pure pleasure throbbing between her thighs, she unraveled with a hoarse shout, convulsing, coming apart in his hand.

White and black spots burst across her vision as she was swept away in a whirl of force. She flexed her fingers, clenching her legs around him as he rode her hard, his rhythm breaking into erratic bursts. He called her name just in time, so she could open her eyes and watch his face as he emptied himself into her with a long, low growl.

He slumped against her, body heavy with lethargy, as she came down more gradually, full-body contractions diminishing with each pull, bringing her back, tingling, to earth. They lay together, basking in that mutual glow of relief, for a long time. She felt floaty and dull-witted and supremely satisfied...so much so that it wasn't until Kakashi started snoring that she realized he'd fallen asleep.

Laughing quietly to herself, she tried to roll him over without waking him, but his eyelids fluttered.

"S-sorry," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "You're very...comfortable."

She laughed again. He wasn't usually this honest when awake. "So are you. But we'll get cold if we stay like this."

Neither of them had any strength to get up and gather clothes, so they just slipped under the covers of the bedroll and pulled the blanket on top. Sakura managed to force herself to shove an extra log or two onto the fire before collapsing. Kakashi automatically curled around her—his skin felt amazingly warm, like a private furnace beneath the covers—and she sighed contentedly.

They could worry about what it all meant tomorrow. For now, they were warm and together.

But there was one more question...it niggled at the back of her consciousness, demanding attention before she could finally rest.

"Kakashi?" she asked softly, to see if he was asleep yet.

"Mmmmph?" Okay, maybe not entirely awake.

"You never answered my question. Even though I answered yours."

"And what question was that?"

She bit her lip. "All the recent teasing. Did you—did you mean anything by it? Was all this...planned?"

She felt his grin against her back. "Not in the least."

Shocked, she turned over to look at him, vaguely horrified. Her first instinct had been right? He hadn't taken any of this seriously? It was really just...just _joking?_ And yet...at her insistence, it became... "What?"

He fumbled beneath the blankets for her hand, then lifted it to his lips and kissed her palm. She turned pink at the small gesture.

"This, Sakura, is what I'd call a happy accident. A very happy accident. I must really be as lucky a man as you seem to think I am."

"Oh," she said, somewhat flustered. "Well then—is this...uh...is this a happy enough accident that it's worth, uh…"

"Repeating?"

She nodded, speechless.

He smiled at her lazily. "Only if I am a very, very lucky man. We might need a natural disaster or two to even my luck out, after this."

She chuckled. "I think we just got through one of those." Indeed, the wind seemed to have quieted outside.

"Then there's always tomorrow," he murmured, stroking his thumbnail over her hip.

She sighed, relaxing in his arms as they drifted off, like falling snowflakes…

Until next time.

-o-

End

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope to make this a collection and add more oneshots for tumblr's Naruto Smut Monday event (rabid-behemoth on tumblr). Please show that review button some love!


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